Category Archives: Protector

Dec 8, 2018 at 12:37 PM

The wailing moan of grief and distress from the phone receiver gouged at my heart.
Weeping tears, sobs of sorrow while gasping from breath between the utterances of half spoken words, making no sense at all, caused my mind to kick into over-drive of worse case scenarios.

“Is my mother all right?” I asked.
No cognitive answer, more groaning and sniffles.

“Sweetheart, calm down, take a deep breath and tell dad what’s wrong.”
Between another fit of whimpering she managed to utter, ” I just don’t know what to do!!”
Followed by a renewed lamentation of bawling tears.

“Do about what, Honey?” I asked, struggling to keep a comforting tone, attempting to suppress the dramatic thoughts racing through my mind. “Please!” I begged to my 14 year old daughter Nia, “Just tell me what’s happen,” triggering another ten minute bout of groaning moans of sobs, giving way to an additional round of tears and sniffles.

Finally she took the deep controlled breath and announced the cause of this dismal condition, “Blake moved out of state and I didn’t get to say good bye!” she cried and the water works continued.

Blake the Snake.
That’s what I called my daughters first little boyfriend.

He reminded me too much of myself and that isn’t always a good thing.
Now just like me when I kept getting in trouble in school, he got sent to another state until he got his act together.
I can’t lie…there was that side of me that was ecstatic!!

Blake’s little ass was finally outta here!!
But I kept that to myself, knowing what we adults call puppy love is as real as it gets to my daughter and her broken heart.

So in comforting daddy mode, I assured her it will be all right, allowed her to cry all she wanted, related to her hurt and pain and attempted to sooth her sadness.
I’m glad she knows that she can always cry to me and that no matter what she will forever be daddies little girl.

Everything I learned, revealed divine consciousness is God dwelling within and outside of us. The good and the bad, the hot and the cold, all of it is God. By putting things in that context, I didn’t have to know and understand everything. I was working on living with more trust and appreciation of the process by allowing moments to unfold.

I heard a story on the news which helped me stay grateful for all that I had and kept life in the proper perspective.

A young mother had just left church on Easter Sunday, in the Bronx with her family and had her young baby boy less than two years old, strapped in his car seat.

A stray bullet traveled through the back door, killing her son.

Situations like this used to be my justification for why there can’t be a God. On what level did the Universal laws get activated to bring that experience about? I believe God is in control. But hearing stories like that at times – wasn’t convincing.

Nia, my youngest child, was close to that same age when the story broke. I couldn’t imagine the suffering that the family was experiencing. I wanted that child’s life to not be a random act of violence. I used that incident to realize how blessed I am to be able to see my daughters every week, kissing and holding them in my arms, even if it’s only for an hour in the crowded visiting room.

I’m sure that the child’s mother would change situations with me, no hesitation involved, happy to be facing 45 years, as long as her baby boy was alive. I decided then on that I would never complain about being in prison. I’ve experienced how important the right attitude was dealing with difficult situations that were ultimately based on your perception and faith.

“If only someone would have explained to me then, what I’ve now come to learn,” I thought, looking out on the unit, seeing impressions of myself at earlier stages in life when I had a gangster mentality, convinced I knew it all.

Not only am I indicted for a drug conspiracy, but I was under investigation for extortion, a string of burglaries and armed robberies connected to a crooked Suffolk County cop, a group of shady lawyers and one of the Mafia’s five organized crime families.

When Erick Sermon went head first out a fourth-floor window, I was the first person called. My crew had a reputation to dish out street justice. There was no aspect of this gangster lifestyle I didn’t participate in.

That first year of incarceration, was one dramatic court hearing after another. Each taking a toll on my mother. When she learned that my friends were cooperating with the government against me, she took matters into her own hands.

Mom walked quietly but carried a big stick.

My mother had a reputation of her own in the streets.

The district attorney learned that Mamma Wright was in Gestapo mode and brought it to the judge’s attention at the end of my hearing.

“Your honor, there’s one last issue I would like to address, concerning the defendant’s mother,” the prosecutor said pointing to my mother in the courtroom.

John, turned around with raised eyebrows, looking at my mom who smiled, shrugged her shoulders, listening to what was said.

“What’s your concern?” the Judge asked.

“We’ve received information that Mrs. Wright has confronted a number of potential witnesses and we would ask the Court to advise her to stop. She’s attempting to obstruct justice.”

My mother kept smiling.

Then the Judge addressed her directly, “Mrs. Wright, although the Court does understand a mother’s love for her son, please cease contact with witnesses involved in this case. Interfering with a federal investigation is a serious crime. Please allow your sons’ lawyer, who I’m sure has a licensed investigator, address any issues that have any significance to this case.”

“O.k.,” my mother said, nodding her head, still smiling at me as I was lead out of the courtroom.